Safe With Me

The wind cascaded in through the open windows, blowing Florrie’s brown locks wild. Sunglasses covered her green eyes, the sun shining in through the glass on all sides of her car, fierce and hot. The air was nothing short of dry sand and it made her throat feel fuzzy and parched. She licked her chapped lips, sticking an arm out the drivers’ side window, moving her hand in a wave-like pattern through the wind. Bon Iver’s Brackett, WI played through the speakers, his mumbling voice a soothing melody. But then again, music always had that effect on Florrie; it made her calmer than any drag of nicotine ever could.

Florrie hadn’t stopped to go to the bathroom or stretch her legs since she started driving, determined to make it to Tempe as quickly as possible. She’d been driving for nearly ten hours straight and only now had the effects started to hit her hard. Having not slept at all the night before and having had to wake up early this morning, the dark circles under her eyes had begun to weigh heavy, only hidden by the shades covering her face. But now, after hours of speeding down the highway, her limbs ached, begging to be stretched. So without much thought, she turned on her blinker and peeled off the road onto the dry dirt pass over, the cars behind her honking at her sudden move. She paid no mind to their blaring horns and climbed out of her car, shoving her keys into her back pocket and pulling her Nikon camera off from where she had placed it on the passenger seat. Pulling it out of its case, she slipped the strap over her head and let the camera hang casually around her neck, adjusting it until it sat comfortably. She closed her car door and moved around to the front, jumping up onto the hood.

The first signs of morning were emerging once again from behind a row of red mountains, sunlight casting its rays about the desert. The freeway stretched for miles before her, the asphalt blanketed with layers of dust and sand. Florrie stretched her legs out in front of her, leaning back on to the palm of her hands. The sun beamed down from the clear sky above, only now beginning it’s decent into the horizon. The sky was just beginning its shift from blue to orange, the melding of colors forming a beautiful array of shades and colors; a perfect sunset. Florrie raised her camera up to her face, focusing onto the scene of the sky before snapping the picture, looking down at the image on the square camera screen.

For so long, summer had always been Florrie’s favorite season. It used to create the most perfect sunsets and the sky was always clear of clouds, the endless amount of stars stretching into all directions, almost in a way that allowed you to truly see the circular shape of the world. She hated the coldness winter brought on – having to wear big, down jackets, boots, hats, gloves, and all other winter gear was not something she enjoyed. She liked to feel the hot summer breeze brush against her legs, its warmth creating the happiness she spends hours searching for in an instant. But now that the environment was so drastically changing, everything seemed to blend together, right down to the seasons. The temperatures were no longer characteristic of a single season, but instead all melded together to form a completely new season that lasted all year long.

An expert would say that it was a simple, yet drastic and common switch of the poles, but Florrie was no expert in the matter, so to her, the strange environmental changes meant only one thing; the end of the world. Despite her being a firm believer in December 21, 2012, she had no fear. Death wasn’t something she worried over or thought about often. Everyone dies at some point and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop it – it’s an inevitable part of life. For Florrie, death was looming closer to her than most. And even with that known fact, she didn’t care. She lived her life how she wanted and as though the world was going to end at any given moment. In her mind, there’s only one way to live and that’s without regrets or second thoughts. In the young girl’s mind, she didn’t have much to live for. She had her parents of course, but they’ve never had a decent relationship, so Florrie honestly didn’t know if she would miss them, as horrible and sadistic as that seemed.

San Francisco was the only thing Florrie actually liked about California and would probably be the one thing she’d truly miss upon taking her last breath. She considered it to be her home - to be the only place she knew would remain constant and yet ever changing. Even now when she was being forced to move exactly 760.3 miles away, into the sunny and warm town of Tempe, Arizona, San Francisco was her heart and soul. She took pride in her hometown; everything about it was perfect, right down to the fact that it was where her favorite childhood TV show, Full House, had been set. The weather seemed to be perfect day in and day out. The days were always warm and sunny, even when it rained it seemed like the sun couldn’t be dimmed, and the nights were cool and breezy. The days lasted for long hours, the activity amongst the streets never faltering in excitement. There was the Golden Gate Bridge, the vast amount of cable cars that ran throughout the streets, Little Italy, the endless parks, beaches and museums. Florrie especially loved all the entertainers that lined every street; beat boxers, break dancers, guitarists, singers, magicians, and artists. There was endless creativity and life and to Florrie, there was no better place to grow up, despite what her parent’s opinions were.

Florrie lay out on her car for two hours, thoughts running amuck in her mind as she snapped pictures of the quickly changing skyline and of the birds and bats flying above her. Occasionally, a car would drive past her, and twice someone had offered her assistance to her broken down car, but other than that, this road seemed to be deserted. It was quiet and barren, and a place where you either enjoy the peacefulness or go crazy within it. Silence can be both a gift and a burden, depending on your state of mind. Florrie was used to the quietness of her home, but once outside her doors, everything came to life and for that she was always thankful. She never enjoyed the quiet life her parents liked to live. She was the type of person who needed adventure, who craved to always be on the edge and take risks. She was a dare-devil, and only felt safe when she was on the brink of danger.

When the sun had completely taken all light from the world with it as it slowly disappeared, and the moon had begun to rise into the starless sky, Florrie knew it was time to get going. It wouldn’t be long before her mother would receive a call from her frantic aunt, informing her that Florrie had never arrived and that it was nearly night time. In five minutes flat, her mother would have the cops, the army, even the marine’s out looking for her. They’d track her cell phone, her car, her every step up to the very last one she took. Florrie wouldn’t put it past her mother to go completely crazy if things didn’t go according to plan.

She jumped down from the hood of her car and made her way back into the driver’s seat. After wrapping the strap around her camera and placing it back into its carrying case, Florrie picked up her phone from where she had left it in one of the cup holders in the center console. She only had one text message from her father; it was reminder that a call was mandatory and not an option once she arrived at her destination. Florrie didn’t respond and instead deleted the text message, rolling her eyes in the process. She placed her phone back into the cup holder and started up the car engine. Aerosmith’s Dream On was playing on the radio and Florrie raised the volume up so loud she could feel the stereo’s vibrations within her seat and peeled back onto the empty streets, dust and sand raising up behind her as her tires swerved off the grains.

As she sang along and tapped her hands on the steering wheel to the rock song, Florrie pulled her carton of cigarettes out of the side pocket on the driver’s side door. There was one left, and she knew that by the time she made it Tempe, she’d need want another drag, so she decided that before she arrived at her aunt’s, she’d have to buy more. When she made it into Phoenix nearly four hours later, she decided to stop at the first gas station she spotted to buy a pack or two. Her gas tank was almost on empty anyway so no matter what, she’d have to make a pit stop. Besides, she was already almost two hours behind her mother’s schedule; what would ten more minutes be?

She pulled her car into a gas pump space and turned it off, climbing out of the vehicle slowly. Being that it was 8 o’clock at night and she was in a strange and unfamiliar place, Florrie wasn’t sure on how smart of an idea this was. Her mother would certainly disapprove; then again, when didn’t her mother disapprove of her decisions? It wasn’t too dark out yet, but dark enough that the lights above each pump had to be turned on. There were quite a few people here too; a group of guys, a woman with her daughter, and two trucks parked over in the corner.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Florrie asked herself, locking up her car and heading inside.

The bell above the door rang as she pulled it open, instantly the smell of tobacco and gasoline hitting her nose. The small shop was empty, minus the man behind the counter who was looking through an issue of some car magazine and two men who sat talking at a table together. Florrie walked further inside, ignoring the strangers curious stares and went towards the back where all the drinks were. She looked through the options, which there weren’t many of, and settled on grabbing a can of Arnold Palmer. The refrigerator door closed behind her with a suction cup noise as she made her way back to the front, stepping up to the counter, placing forty bucks on to the blue stained surface.

“Station 6 and 2 packs of Marlboros.”

The man, who’s stitched on name tag said his name was Red, took her money and placed it in the cash register, flicking a switch on the wall to turn her gas pump on and grabbed two white and teal cigarette cartons, placing them into her awaiting hands. She muttered a small ‘thank you’ and turned around, exiting the dirty station. As she made her way back her car, she snapped open the can and took a large gulp, the cool liquid relieving her from the quenching thirst she’d been enduring ever since entering Arizona.

“Uh, excuse me?” Florrie’s head snapped up as her walking came to a halt. A short, older man stood before her, his jean overalls covered in grease stains and his balding head shining with the summer sun above. “You got a light?” He asked, holding up his cigarette.

“Sure.” She pulled her lighter with the wolf picture printed on the side out of her back pocket, holding it up to the man’s cigarette. When it ignited, he placed it between his lips, nodding at her.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“You new around here?” He asked, taking a drag of his cancer stick, the orange embers of the flame burning.

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Not too many unfamiliar faces to me around here. It’s easy to recognize a new one.”

“Small town?”

“You have no idea,” the man laughed, knocking bits of ashes from his cigarette onto the dirt below. “Where ya headin’?” He asked.

“Tempe,” Florrie answered, not even considering the fact that she just told a complete stranger her whereabouts, however vague.

“I got a sister who lives up there, nice place,” he replied. “Well, I’ll let you go. Thanks again for the light.”

Florrie nodded her head, offering the man a ghost of a smile and made her way around him, back to her car. She placed the lighter back in her pocket and placed her drink in the cup holder opposite the one holding her cell phone, and threw the newly bought cigarettes onto the passenger seat, before placing the gas pump into its assigned slot and leaning against her vehicle, one foot balancing on the rear tire. She glanced up at the chorus of laughter that erupted from across the parking lot where a group of about seven guys stood around a white van, laughing obnoxiously at a tall brunette who had his arms crossed like a four year old. One of the other guys, one with ridiculously bright blue hair that made him look like a Japanese Anime character, stood next to him looking sheepish and guilty, though he was clearly trying to hold back some giggles of his own.

She turned her attention back to her car as the pump clicked, indicating that her tank was full. She placed the nozzle back into its holder, leaning up off her car. She whipped her hands on her shorts as she climbed back into her car, starting it up and watching as the gas gauge moved from E to F. She once again peeled out of the parking lot, finishing her journey to Tempe with a full tank of gas and two cartons of cigarettes.



It only took Florrie a little under ten minutes before she made it to her Aunt Lorraine’s house in good old Tempe. Normally, she wouldn’t care what anyone thought of her, but her aunt was an entirely different story. She didn’t look at Florrie with sad, disappointed eyes. She understood Florrie’s free-bird attitude. She knew why Florrie was a risk taker, why her parents were like prison guards, why her mother constantly watched her with hawk eyes. She didn’t question life nor did she think there was anything that could save the young girl. She just understood her, and for Florrie, that was more than she could ask for.

If there was one thing Florrie loved about her Aunt Lorraine, besides her understanding, she would have to say it was her house. It was one of the most comfortable places she could think of. Even though temperatures rarely faltered to below 90 degrees, flowers bloomed beautifully in the flower beds along the front of the house, on either side of the small, cement walkway. The grass always seemed to be a lush green, and when night fell and all of the outsides lights went on, the entire house became illuminated within the dark confines of the night. It was almost magical to Florrie, and as a young girl, she loved to come here and count down the seconds until the timers turned on and the lights shuttered, their luminescents making the entire yard glow.

Not only was the outside amazing, but the inside was as well. Every room was painted a bright color - yellow, green, peach, and turquoise; colors that just made you feel safe and warm. The lighting was usually low and not overbearing, most of it coming from candles that always seemed to be burning, lavender or vanilla especially, or from all of the windows throughout the house that were never covered by shades during the day. It wasn’t just a house; it was a home, inside and out. It offered the safety that everyone craves to have in their life from at least someone or something.

When Florrie pulled into the driveway of the white painted house, she couldn’t ignore the pang of excitement that nearly made her leap out of the car. As though she had cameras fixed on the driveway, waiting for that blue Honda Civic to pull up, Florrie’s Aunt Lorraine swung her front door open, rushing down the small walk way barefoot and in nothing but pajama shorts and an old t-shirt, her short blonde hair bobbing and swishing as she fast walked to her niece. Florrie laughed, climbing out of her car as her aunt rushed around the vehicle, instantly grabbing the girl into a tight hug.

“Florrie Marie Rivera, look at you! Oh my gosh! You have grown up so much since the last time I saw you! When was that; oh you must have been, what 13, 14?”

“Try 11, Aunt Lorraine.”

“Eleven? Has it really been that long?” Florrie nodded her head, noticing how her her aunt’s smile was nearly a mirror image of her mother’s and of her own. “Eleven years. That was when you were-” she stopped mid-sentence, looking up at Florrie’s faltering smile. Lorraine cleared her throat gently, “Right, well then, we have lots of catching up to do, don’t we?”

Again, Florrie nodded her head, the tiredness now creeping up on her, the evidence showing up through a yawn escaping past her lips.

“Well, you’ve been driving for a long time, so that’ll have to wait until tomorrow, I guess. Why did you drive down here anyway? That’s a long care ride, isn’t it?”

“Eleven hours but I love road trips so I didn’t mind. But my butt is so numb I could be shot back there and wouldn’t feel it.”

Her aunt laughed, rolling her haunting, blue eyes. “Let’s not test that theory out today, okay? Come on, grab your bags. I’ll let you settle in before I start the interrogation.”

Florrie nodded her head, moving to grab her things from the front of the car as her Aunt moved to grab some boxes from the backseat. She grabbed her cell phone, making a mental note to call or at least text her father once inside, stuffing the device into her back pocket. As she moved to grab her camera bag, she remembered the cartons of cigarettes she had just bought a few miles back. She knew how her aunt would feel about her smoking; she could only imagine the lecture she’d get once she found out. Florrie knew she’d find out eventually, what with the stench clinging to every surface of her clothes and belongings, but she planned on postponing that talk for as long as she could. Quickly, before her aunt noticed, she stuffed the two small packs of cigarettes into her camera bag, zipping it back up and throwing it over her shoulder, grabbing her empty Arnold Palmer can out of its place within the cup holder.

What she doesn’t know won’t kill her.